


Busted!

by Annehiggins



Series: What Remains [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, What Remains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after <i>Not Shadow</i> John tracks down his sons and gets an eyeful. Yep, it's the Dad Finds Out story. About the sex. I don't really enjoy thinking about what he'd do if he found out about the demon thing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busted!

Five days out of Chicago John Winchester stopped fighting himself and admitted he'd made a mistake. He never should have left his boys. They were too hurt to be on their own. He knew their stash of holy water would have healed the worst of the slashes as easily as the bottle he kept in his pack had his, but the devastating hurt he saw in their eyes had preyed on him from the moment he'd driven away. They needed to talk, sort things out when they all weren't bleeding and in near shock. Preferably in the middle of a sunny day with a heavy circle of salt all around them, but, yes, they needed to talk. And he needed to touch them, to reassure himself with his own hands that they were okay.

He'd made a lot of mistakes as a father. Knew he'd make a lot more, but one fault he did not have was indifference. He always knew where his boys were. Always. Before he'd left Dean on his own and started this hunt, he'd planted a GPS device in the Impala. So he could always find them if they needed him. Or he needed them. 

Within minutes of making his decision he had their coordinates and started the long drive south.

*

They reached the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia a little after sunrise. Good as place as any to stop for rest and research, so Sam pulled off the highway at the first sign of a cheap hotel. He shook his head at the sight of it. Bit rundown, near a couple of bars and a few fast food places – they'd stayed at its clone more times than he could count.

"Home sweet home," Dean said echoing his thoughts. He grinned at Sam, "I can't wait to see what shade of beige the walls are."

Sam laughed. "Screw the walls," he said, giving Dean a shove. "Just make sure to get a room with a decent bed."

Dean gave him a puzzled look. "Why do you need a bed to screw the walls? Or did you have designs on something else?" He fluttered his eyelashes and made Sam laugh.

"Jerk, get moving. I'm sick and tired of this car."

Dean got out of the car then turned around to frown at him. "Don't you be insulting my baby, Sammy. She might hold a grudge."

"Go!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin.'"

They went through the usual routine – Dean got the room, Sam parked the car right outside their door, they unloaded what they knew they'd need, then they set up a salt circle and a few protective wards, etc., etc. That taken care of Sam pounced.

Dean laughed as he was pulled into a heated kiss, then he grinned when their lips parted. "What's the matter, Sammy? Your boyfriend not putting out enough?"

Sam gave him a really hard swat, making Dean yelp. "My 'boyfriend' is a pain in the ass," He said, unfastening Dean's jeans. He slipped his hands inside them and gave Dean's cheeks a squeeze. "Thought I'd return the favor."

"You sweet talker," Dean fairly purred as he tugged at Sam's T-shirt.

That little noise always made Sam think of Dean as his sex kitten. Valuing his life, he naturally refrained from mentioning it. Instead he focused on getting Dean naked as quickly as possible. When Dean reached to return the favor, Sam caught hold of his wrists, then sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his naked brother over his lap.

"Damnit, Sammy, don't you dare!" Dean hissed, then groaned loudly when Sam swatted him.

He grinned at the squirming ass, then hit it again. Dean was such a slut for this. Come to think of it he was a slut for anything that got Sam's hands on his body. Sam showed his approval by smacking him a few more times – just enough to give the skin a soft red glow. Mission accomplished, he shifted up and around so Dean was draped over the edge of the bed and he could kneel behind him.

Grabbing those warm, red cheeks, he pulled them apart enough to display Dean's entrance, then bent to kiss it. The flesh quivered at his touch and Dean groaned loudly. Another favorite sound. He licked and kissed and thrust with his tongue until Dean's voice settled into a low continuous keening.

"Don't come," he ordered, settling back on his heels, then giving Dean another few swats. Once he got the red glow back, he flipped Dean onto his back, reminded him again not to come, then swallowed Dean's cock to the root.

He sucked and teased with the tip of his tongue and Dean writhed and begged for permission to come. He hummed his refusal around Dean's flesh, then sucked some more. Gods, the man was like a walking sexual fantasy – all sharp edges and soft center. Sometimes Sam wanted him so much, loved him so much he couldn't even breathe. Figuring Dean had reached the point where continuing to torment him bordered on sadistic, Sam drew back, unzipped his jeans, then lifted Dean's legs over his shoulders. Bracing Dean's ass with his hands, he lifted him up, then shoved in.

"So fucking gorgeous," he whispered, thrusting into the body sprawled out in front of him. Eyes wide and bright, face flushed, hands gripping the bed spread on either side of his head – so damned beautiful he wanted to fuck Dean forever, but he'd fallen in love with him and had walked away from that fantasy into an even better one. Didn't mean sometimes it still took everything he had to let Dean out of his clutches.

"Please, I can't –" Dean groaned.

"It's okay. Come for me, baby. Let me hear you scream."

Two more thrusts and Dean tensed up, then shouted "Sammy!" as he came with a rather spectacular arch of his back.

Sam stopped a moment to enjoy the show, but was still balls deep inside him when the door burst open. He couldn't move for the few seconds it took his brain to move from demon threat to oh, my Gods –

Somehow Dean recovered first. "Dad?"

*

John stumbled into the bar, his mind reeling at what he'd seen. But he couldn't have seen that? Could he? "Double tequila," he whispered to the bartender, who took one look at him and got the drink fast. He downed it in two quick swallows. Bartender gave him a refill without a word.

*

Dean dressed quickly. Jeans, T-shirt, boots without socks, enough to cover the basics and get out the broken door. Sam made the mistake of catching hold of his arm, trying to stop him. He shoved him away. Hard. "Damnit! I've got to talk to him," he snapped and bolted outside.

To his relief, his father's truck was still parked next to the Impala. Didn't take a genius to guess Dad had headed for the nearest bar and Dean sprinted across the parking lot. God, could this be any worse? Well, yeah, he could have busted in while Sam was spanking his ass. Somehow that seemed a lot worse than the fucking Dad had witnessed and what did that say about Dean's wacky sex life? Shit.

He got inside in time to see Dad set down an empty glass on the bar top, then nod to the bartender for more. Adding a drunk father into this mess seemed like a whole new level of a bad idea, so he scowled at the bartender and shook his head. Proving the guy had a brain cell or two, he backed away leaving Dad's glass empty.

Dad lifted his head to growl at the lack of service as Dean crossed the room, then froze when Dean put his hand on his shoulder. "Dad-"

The fist slammed into his jaw and sent him sprawling on the floor. He probably should have expected it, but he hadn't. His father had never hit him. No matter how deep he crawled into a bottle, no matter how much Dean screwed up, he'd never hit him. Fuck. His eyes teared up, mostly on principle because physical pain had lost all ability to make him dewy-eyed. "Okay, I probably deserved that," he said, more to keep the bartender from getting involved than anything else.

Dad glared at him as he got back to his feet. "Dad, please-"

"How could you do that?" Dad hissed. "I trusted you to take care of him! And you –"

"Dad, no," Dean pleaded. He couldn't stand to hear him accuse Dean of molesting his baby brother. None of this had been his idea, damnit! He struggled for something to say, to stop Dad's ugly flow of words, and settled on the worst thing he could say, mostly because it was the only thing he could. "Did it look like I was even remotely in charge of that?"

Dad's fists clenched, and Dean braced himself for another clout on the jaw.

"Enough!" Sam's angry voice made them both spin toward the door, and even Dean flinched at the fury in his eyes. It clearly said that if Dad even thought of raising those fists Sam would cut them off, and suddenly Dean was more afraid for his father than of his reaction. "A word. Outside. Now."

The order was clearly directed at Dad, but Dean hurried over to him. "Sammy?"

The fury vanished when Sam looked into his eyes. He gave him a gentle smile, then ran his thumb along Dean's jaw. "I won't hurt him," he assured Dean. "But this is between him and me. You need to stay out of it."

"But-"

"Go get a drink, Dean," he said as their father slipped out behind him. "I'll fix this."

As if it were fixable, but Dean didn't have a clue what to do, so he might as well give Sam his shot. "Okay."

Sam gave him a quick kiss, then went outside. Because he didn't want to follow more than he wanted to avoid the bartender, Dean walked back to the bar and ordered his own tequila.

The bartender gave it to him, then followed it up with a sympathetic look. "So your daddy break in on you and the boyfriend?" he asked.

_Oh, man, kill me now._ "Is there a back door to this place?"

*

John moved to the side of the building and vomited up the tequila along with the remains of his breakfast. He'd hit his boy. Oh, God. His beautiful boy who had never done anything but everything John demanded of him. How could he have done that? How could he have hit his baby boy? 

"Dad." Sam's voice was cold and flat and made John flinch at the sound of it.

He wretched again, then gasped, "God, Sammy, what have we done to him?"

A moment's silence then, "So you know this is my doing."

Yeah, he'd finally put together what he'd seen, what Dean had said and how Dean had responded to Sam's orders and figured it out. It was like Dean was still caught in some sort of compliant afterglow – not something that came with running the show. Not Dean's doing, but it wasn't Sam's either. "I never should have forced him to make you the center of his universe." God, and he used to think it was so cute that Dean could never deny Sam anything. Not the last bowl of Lucky Charms, not – The nausea vanished back into outrage and he rose up on his feet to glare at his youngest son. "Did you force him to do this?"

The question seemed to catch Sam off guard and he could see him trying to think of a way around it. "Oh, God, did you rape your own brother?"

Another hesitation that told him everything, but Sam shook his head. "The first time. A demon possessed me and . …" He sighed. "But that was over a year ago, Dad."

John shook his head. A year. Dean had been letting Sam … for a year. "Son, he doesn’t know how to say no to you."

Sam flinched. He obviously knew that. "It's not like that. I swear it. I know it could be, but it isn't. It's not even about me and what I want. You said it yourself, Dad. I got to be the center of his universe. Now, he's the center of mine, too." He sighed and leaned back against the wall. "It's like I woke up and realized everything I ever wanted was nothing compared to how much I want to make him happy. I love him, Dad. In every way possible, and I'd walk in an instant if I thought that's what he wanted."

The teeter totter in his mind shifted again, and John was back to seeing Sam doing whatever Dean wanted to make him happy. Then back again. Neither happy, neither willing to say no. "You've got to stop, get some distance from one another so you can think clearly." Yes, that was it. He could keep Dean with him for awhile, but what about Sam? "You … you could go back to school. Get that law degree you always talked about."

*

_School?_ Dean shook his head. All those fights over Sam wanting to leave and Dad wanting him to stay and now Dad wanted him to go? Sheesh, if Dean had known it would have put an end to all the shouting, he'd have let Sammy shag his ass years ago. He almost opened his mouth to say exactly that, but decided the old man had had enough shocks for one day. Instead he announced his presence by saying, "I see this is going well."

"Dean-" two voices protested, but he held up his hand to stop any suggestion that he go back into hiding. Didn't work well for him.

"I'm talking, Sammy," he snapped, warning only one of them off, because he couldn’t manage the ordering Dad around thing, but figured Dad would get the hint and shut up, too. And wonder of wonders it worked.

He shook his head. "School and intervention therapy? That's the best you two could come up with." How he ever learned to think on his feet with these two around was a miracle and a half. He fixed Sam with a glare. "I keep trying to tell you that the caring and sharing route is for suckers."

"Dean –"

"Older brother still talking here," he shut him up, then turned his attention back to his father. "Okay, so the short version is that a demon made us do it," and bless Sam for coming up with that convenient way around an ugly truth. "We decided we liked it, so we've kept doing it. End of story and no need for the shrink brigade."

Dad shook his head. Shit. "Dean, you were so. …?"

Oh, so this was about the damage to his image as the bastard in charge. "Receptive? What can I say, Dad? I've always been a wild man with the ladies, but Sam's not going anywhere that no man has gone before." He shrugged. "To be honest, I prefer being that vulnerable with Sam versus some guy who picked me up in a bar, but if you separate us that's what I'll go back to." Inside he held his breath hoping he could con the man who had taught him how to do it. Of course, most of it was the truth, but he couldn't leave Sam and he couldn't go back to letting strangers bang him. Even if he had made it sound like there were a hell of a lot more of those strangers than he'd ever even contemplated let alone gotten horizontal with.

Dad had turned an interesting mix of flushed and pale. Dean felt sorry for him, but he was the one who'd made him discuss his sex life. He decided a few soft words might not go amiss here after all. "Dad, I love him, and I want him. He's already told you he feels the same way. Let it go. Please."

"What do you want me to say, son? That you have my blessing?"

"God, no." Be nice, but no. "Just don't worry about us. And don't stop. …" He couldn’t even say it.

Dad frowned. "Stop what?" He stared at Dean for a moment, then asked, "Stop loving you?"

He nodded. Utterly miserable at even the thought of it.

"I could never do that. I'm your father," he said, and pulled Dean into his arms.

The hug felt good. Especially since he'd been terrified he'd never receive another one. Dean even smiled when his father shifted to a one-armed embrace so he could hug Sam with the other arm. They'd made it through. Things were a mess, but they'd survived. Situation normal for the Winchesters.

Unfortunately, the hug had to end and a really, really awkward moment swallowed them whole. Another annoyingly familiar situation. Fortunately, Dean had long ago become a master at dealing with them.

He gave his father a weak smile, then said, "Not to belabor the point, but it really isn't safe for all of us to be together." Conveniently, it was also the absolute truth. This whole spectacle could have attracted the wrong sort of attention and it was time to book on out of here.

Dad nodded, even looked relieved. He gave them each a quick squeeze on the shoulder, then started back toward his truck.

"Oh, and, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Just so you know, I found that GPS box a week after you planted it."

He smiled. "Take care of each other, boys."

"Always," Sam answered.

"What he said."

With a chuckle, he went to his truck, then drove away.

They watched him go, then leaned back against his brother's long torso. "You know it's a good thing that we have this demon thing going for us."

"Why's that?"

"Otherwise, this would be the sort of experience to keep a guy limp for weeks."

Sam snorted.

"Okay, maybe a few hours. Now let's get the hell out of here before someone starts yelling at us to pay for that damned door."

*

John watched his boys in the rear view mirror until he'd driven too far away to see them anymore. His boys. His head was still swimming and he was far from comfortable with it. If he were a normal father and could have stayed maybe he could have found a way to fix things, but he hadn't been that sort of father since Dean was four-years old.

And what could he say? It's a sin and a God he didn't believe in would damn them to a hell he didn't think existed? They'd have had to fight not to laugh at him. And at least they weren't alone. He knew it had almost killed Dean when Sam had left them the first time. John hated to think what would have happened if he decided to do it again. Wasn't likely that he would now. And was it wrong to think that might possibly be a good thing? He didn't like to think of either of them out there alone with no one to watch their backs. He knew all too well how that worked out. His boys. Together.

Dean with a face and heart as beautiful as his mother's, even if he did hide the heart under a cynical layer of armor, and Sam with the soul of a scholar and a temper like his father's – his boys made a good team. And if they weren't both his sons, he could see them together. And he knew about the women they'd tried to make lives with – one was dead, the other had rejected becoming a part of it all. Given the realities of their lives, any outsider would end up in one category or the other. So if not together, alone. If he could keep focused on that maybe he could find a way to accept this. He just wished Dean had been a little less devoted to Sam, and Sam had been a little more aware of how much influence he had on his older brother.

His stomach churned again. He knew it would be a long time before it settled and even longer before he found any peace with his sons' new relationship. But he loved them, and he would find the way, because, in the end they were together. And that made them strong enough to survive. Yes, he would find a way to embrace anything that let them stay alive. Because, he wanted them strong and alive. He was their father.

end

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final story I did in this verse. Obviously it could have gone on and I'd planned to do so, but I got distracted by other things, then other pairings and never went on. I do hope you enjoy what I did do!


End file.
